


Hear me (out)

by Rabentochter



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Has Issues, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Mind Games, POV Loki (Marvel), Pining, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 16:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/pseuds/Rabentochter
Summary: Loki just wants to hear his soulmate speak to him - something which is only possible when the other experiences intense emotions. But it isnotas easy as that with life being really horrible to both of them.





	Hear me (out)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jaxonkreide](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaxonkreide/gifts).

> Jax is amazing at (prompting others) thinking up soulmate scenarios. This is one of many prompts he shared with the [ Frostiron Discord](https://discord.gg/qhvJUts) and well, I finally got around to post it xD

Loki knew he had a soulmate. Somewhere_. Someone_.

He was not _not _alone. He was just feeling alone for most of the time.

Nobody told him how difficult it was to live with a brother who got to know his soulmate exactly fifty years after his birth. His name was Fandral. Groomed to become a formidable warrior and a great friend to Thor and with them sharing a soulmate bond, the best friend Thor could ever hope to find (since Thor wasn’t in any way inclined _that _way). He should feel honoured. And Thor did, to Loki’s surprise. He had to sit by, with clenched teeth, faked smiles and hoped his soulmate would come into life soon.

He was sick of waiting. His head was either too empty or too full, there were no other thoughts (from his soulmate) to distract him, no puzzle to work out who his soulmate was. There was … nothing. For a felt eternity.

But he got to hear about the greatness of a soul bond by Thor and Fandral. How they always seemed to know what was wrong with the other, rushed to each other’s side without any prompting, worry drawn on their faces and a quick jab on the tongue should the situation call for it to cheer them up.

Loki burned with jealousy and with want until his senses went off one rainy morning: he was just drinking a cup of tea, studied more about the art of seiðr when he felt a burning sensation in his head. Like needles they picked in his head, causing him to have a migraine and Loki knew his soulmate was born.

_Finally_.

He was nearly a thousand years old at this point. His patience was back and his excitement for learning who his soulmate was, as well. Obviously, his soulmate was adorable. Loki had no idea how they might look like, who they were but sometimes he felt a rush of sweet emotions running through him and he liked to picture his soulmate, toddling around on one of the realms, causing mischief and let himself be cooed over for all the mischief they might wreak.

There were no babies born that year on Asgard. Loki had checked the records - which meant his soulmate was no Aesir. This led him to the conclusion that his soulmate might not be able to visit him.

Jotnar weren’t allowed to, the elves from Alfheim had strict rules about travelling outside of the realm, Midgard was technically so far behind Loki wondered at times how they even managed to survive and on Svartalfheim was no life. Muspelheim was where Surtur resided and Loki surely had no fire soulbond. On Helheim were only dead people and had long since met their significant other.

But before Loki could start his adventure he had to collect new information. Collect and analyse them for things that might be useful for his endeavour. Loki was excited and he knew that many saw it – saw how the second prince of Asgard stared into the distance, his seiðr dancing around his fingers and wore a smile on his lips.

He didn’t experience many intense thoughts or feelings from his soulmate. They were only a kid, after all. They felt strong, not intense.

Loki hadn’t quite understood that but as long as it meant the soul bond was working he could live with weird explanations that did not make any sense to him at all. One of the few things Loki got to feel often from his soulmate was rising anger and an uncontrollable amount of hate in them. Rising, climbing, cooking over, satisfaction.

Then guilt and remorse followed; then vanished.

This was not how Loki had imagined their first ‘bonding’ to be like. Loki felt all his anger directed at a person he could only taste the meaning of ‘parent’. Soulmates were difficult to explain at times, Loki understood and remembered how angry he had become at times when Thor and Fandral just utterly _failed _at helping him out. 

Over the years Loki learned to dislike (in polite words) the parents of his soulmate. There weren’t many emotions his soulmate felt intense enough to share them with Loki – but the burning rage coupled with shame and self-doubt. 

Loki got to know them all.

He was worried about his soulmate especially when he realised that they aged quickly. Too quickly, for his likening. Emotions became steady and then out of sudden, they changed _quickly _and so many were intense, the rage, the hate, everything, just to be gone again from one second to the next.

_Puberty, _Loki’s mind supplied him with as answer. Puberty. Loki only got his soulmate thirteen years ago. Thirteen years old and already in puberty. He wasn’t a Jotun, then. Neither was he an elf, they went into puberty at the age of six- to seven hundred. Like the Aesir did. Which meant that his soulmate was a Midgardian. 

Loki … didn’t know how to feel upon that discovery. Midgardians’ lifespans weren’t long, according to books, although it varied on where you lived (a difference of decades, not _centuries_, as learnt in another book). And Loki had no idea _where _on Midgard his soulmate was.

And Thor smiled and laughed, had wrinkles in his face as he sparred with Fandral, trained wielding Mjölnir for later when he would become king. The sight of them both enjoying and flaunting their happy bond in front of his nose … Loki desperately wanted to reach for one of his knives and fling it in their faces, make their smiles stop and turn bloody.

There was a day when he was hit by grief and guilt. No _… thoughts_.

Just this overwhelming feeling that he was at fault for it and why he hadn’t been nicer to them. It took Loki two days to figure out it was survivor’s guilt and his soulmate had survived something others _hadn’t._

Loki wanted to yell at Heimdall, demand of him to tell him who his soulmate was but Heimdall wouldn’t know an answer either - simply because there were so many Midgardians who fitted the description of being young, probably male, in grief, twenty-one years old. Too many. Midgardians were like rabbits.

Loki cursed the sky and the Norns for making it that impossible to find his soulmate.

He didn’t _hear_anything for a while after that from his soulmate. But Thor and Fandral got more and more excited and cheerful, especially after Thor got announced as the heir to the throne (to exactly _no one’s _ surprise).

And Loki could say that with a straight face and no lie on his tongue. If his soulmate heard him or felt his frustration? Loki couldn’t say for sure. His soulmate was still a stranger to him. There was … nothing, really, he could say about him.

And life continued that way for a few years longer, then the grief came back. Harsh and biting, full of regret and an overwhelming sadness. Loki had to grip the doorframe to remain standing and not to fall on his butt. Emotions. Feelings. 

They were so welcome after so many hours of waiting but still, no actual thoughts. And it didn’t matter whether he thought ‘_What’s your name?_’ for hours because no reply came back. If it wasn’t for his soulmate Loki normally would have given up the search by now, declaring it fruitless and just angering his careful balance of being with one foot in the chaos, the other in rule and order.

What a frustrating feeling it was.

Nobody understood it. They told him to shut his mouth, lean back and to trust in the All-father’s words and deeds. Loki was simply worried for his soulmate. He still had no real clues either who it was and there was only so much his seiðr could do.

Years later where Loki at least now knew that his soulmate lived in an area that had _Burgers_, Loki realised quickly how _many _there were for sure. Too many, he thought and stroked over the hologram in his lab.

_“Jesus, fuck, they’ve got my weapons.”_

Loki jolted awake.

_“Fuck!” _was the next thing again.

His soulmate definitely was male. And he had something to do with weapons. Loki was about to call his seiðr to himself, ripping open a new portal in his rooms but then – gone again. Numb. Not there anymore. If he had fallen unconscious?

“Where are you?” Loki whispered into his room but of course, he received no reply. 

Loki summoned his books about Midgard to him. He had been lucky one of the merchants sold them on the market on Asgard a few months back since Asgard’s library tended to forget Midgard’s existence.

Jesus, he knew from the confusing book called ‘bible’, was the figurehead of the Christian religion. Which narrowed down the location of his soulmate _slightly_. And ‘they’, whoever ‘they’ were, had his soulmate’s weapons. Male, follower of the bible and owned weapons.

Weapon dealers on Midgard weren’t really liked. But their weapon brands were famous.

On his trips to Midgard Loki had learnt that Midgard’s population was divided over the topic of having weapons. Some really hated them, others loved them. He licked his lips. _They’ve got my weapons_, did help him out a bit.

Now he knew his soulmate had something to do with weapons. Shame there were still so many people who had something to do with weapons. Loki hoped he was right with his conclusions here. He couldn’t even ask anyone if he was right with them because he knew no one who knew something important of Midgard.

It was for most just a planet that existed on one of Yggdrasil’s branches and was under the protection of Thor. Not very helpful at all.

The following six months that passed were horrible.

Sometimes Loki had to stop what he was doing because his soulmate craved revenge so badly, it horrified Loki. He still did not know who and where he was. He could have helped if he only _knew something_.

But no such a luck. And Thor’s coronation was about to happen as well, it was less than a year away and he couldn’t focus on helping out with the ceremony – too distracted at times. Loki had realised early on that allowing Thor to become a king meant he had to act as his _trusted _advisor in a permanent position.

Permanent meant he wouldn’t be able leave; which meant he had no chance of seeing and discovering his soulmate. He had to do something, he had to _act_.

Often Loki sat in his rooms, studied his ceiling and wrote runes in the air, thinking of ways how to escape his fate. He had to meet his soulmate, he had waited his whole life for this moment and why shouldn’t he be allowed to do that only because _Thor _already had his?

So yes, maybe his soulmate wasn’t ‘_worthy_’ because he was a Midgardian but perhaps not all could have the luck of being born with a soulmate so close by. Thor’s coronation had to be put to a stop. Or, delayed until Loki had found his soulmate. 

A plan started to form in his mind and it was clever and devious and terrible. Loki loved it. Nobody would suspect him as the culprit. Or, they would but no one could say _anything _for they would accuse him of _treason_and treason was not done on Asgard.

Whether the Aesir even knew that the word ‘treason’ existed was an entirely different matter. But it would hold Odin All-Father for a while longer on the throne and Loki would be free to search for his soulmate.

It was with terror Loki realised during one of _those _nights that his soulmate had been born nearly thirty-nine years ago. He was becoming old. And mortals didn’t live for long. 

But maybe Loki did things a little bit too much in haste. He rushed and things had to work fast because he couldn’t sense his mortal for some days now and he was … afraid he was dying. Dead. Because there was sometimes so much resignation in his soulmate, it scared the Ratatoskr out of him.

Thor’s coronation was about to happen and Loki was _anxious, _strung tight like a bow and it all seemed to work so finely out –

Then they were on their way to Jotunheim.

Because Heimdall had let them go, didn’t stop them and this was _not _the plan, this was _not _supposed to happen and Thor _wouldn’t listen_, no, he went and played war with the Frost Giants and Loki flung his knives, hitting as many enemies as he could, and suddenly his arm was blue.

It was as if Hel’s gates had been opened and she herself walked out on the snow field, wanting to bring Loki to her domain personallybecause the dread that filled him- 

The Jotun in front of him died, shock visible in his eyes, snow fading from their sights and Loki stood there, snowed in in terror 

Noises from the battle faded out and the only thing that was in his focus was his blue arm. Black claws that replaces his nails. Lines on his hand. Blue.

It snowed even more.

It wasn’t cold.

Of course, it wasn’t cold for him. Never would be. He was a Jotun. Jotun. Snow lover, frost giant, monster under the bed at night.

_'-you all right?'_

All right?

His world got snowed in, heated up to reveal a terrible truth and he got asked whether he was all right.

_'Please, be all right_.'

Who even was he?

Soulmate of a poor soul, that was what the Norns had intended for him.

Odin All-Father appeared seemingly out of the nowhere on Sleipnir, exchanging pretty words with Laufey and Loki felt _lost_.

Thor got banished to Midgard _where his soulmate was _and he had succeeded but it felt so hollow. And that with his soulmate suddenly talking to him, _worrying _about him but Loki couldn’t listen right now, he had to understand first, understand and see why Odin had done what he –

Falling down, not him, Odin, sinking to the ground and Loki was terrified of touching him and his soulmate was asking whether he was all right again, pleaded for him to be answer and that he was in Monaco but would go back to America soon and he’d find _him, 'it’s a promise_–'

He was the king of Asgard, Gungnir in his hands, his (mother) Frigga giving her to him and he stood there in the gold, on the top of it all, having wanted to flee this place and now was bound to it, more than ever.

But did he even want to go and see his soulmate? He was … after all, he wasn’t who he was led to believe and he was one of the monsters. Maybe he shouldn’t go to Midgard. He should stay here. Leave for another planet. A new system where he could hide and fight his way up. This was doing no good here. _He _wasn’t good.

And the three days with Thor gone, they were a blur. A big, blotchy mess and he didn’t answer in his head, he _was busy, _but he felt his soulmate experience a huge wave of relief and that was good. It was his personal highlight.

And Loki held onto that feeling when he let go, falling down towards the void that wished to claim him and did so. 

He remembered how it was to feel your soulmate’s fear and he didn’t wish _that _upon his; although he wished to share; sharing the pain he felt, making him cry and whimper and scream for people that weren’t _there _–

Alone.

Alone with The Other and his plays he directed: He wanted to see Loki and the Chitauri as actors on the stage. Loki didn’t like theatre anymore. But he could see the appeal in it. If he wasn’t the one without control, he’d enjoy seeing The Other in his place.

He’d write the mightiest plays just for him, the ones that would make people dread the end but also excite them for it, he’d make Midgard’s Shakespeare proud, let his knives and seiðr recite Hamlet, or Titus Andronicus, for they all died in them, eaten up by the wish for blood and justice and Loki wouldn’t want justice, he wanted to share his pain, ask cruelly “To be or not to be” just to answer the question himself by making the Other suffer even more. _To be _for Loki, _to be _for him in pain and eventually down the line, Loki would cease letting them _be._

He couldn’t burden his soulmate with this, he was an American, wasn’t he?

Thoughts were a mess, his mind started to become less and less _his_, the stone –

Hiding. He had to hide in his own mind, hiding all essential parts (Loki, America, Soulmate, Weapons, Fear, Guilt, Pain, Find), the stone could have the other thoughts until Loki was in a better shape again to fight back. For now he had to defend that little space he had claimed as his own.

Blue fog was filling him in small dosages, turned some parts, left others Loki had thought as essentially, untouched, stayed and wavered in the air like the victor that it was.

If it had eyes, Loki was sure it would stare right at him, pinched and squinted, ugly noises tearing from its chest because there was no heart anymore, just _function _and ‘Loki’ learnt to function the hard way. 

He rose from the ground.

He had to find the Tesseract on Midgard, _America _(that used to be important but why, it doesn’t matter any longer), he knew the weapon in his hand because he was afraid of failing _him _and guilt laced through him when he imagined all the pain he’d bring him should he fail but Loki was a king, and kings did not fail.

America was boring. 

Fighting was interesting. Thank you, Stuttgart.

The man wore blue, a horrible colour, he should remove it, a small favour by Loki and he enjoyed it a tad too much, lost focus and people ran away, didn’t kneel anymore but he felt more alive with each breath he took.

There was music. Loud, horrible and _loud_. His head -

He hated the Avengers. Small ants under his boots, only useful for following his plan.

He screamed, hid his face in his hands while he had to listen to Thor on the rock, adrenaline still running in his veins. He mocked Thor for being blasted off by Iron Man and waited for them to settle their childish quarrel. A fight over him, how exciting, he liked this stage so much better than the other one.

The cage was boring.

No sound, not even in his mind.

Getting out meant being one step closer to his goal, pleasing him, pleasing them, ruling them. (Finding him, but who was him, _it doesn’t matter_.)

Terror, that was what Loki experienced shortly after he had left SHIELD’s helicarrier behind. Terror, grief, a promise for vengeance and his soulmate promised _him _to kill Loki for having dared to kill Phil Coulson.

While Loki carried on unaffected on the outside, Loki on the inside was in utter delight and horror at the same time.

It felt like being back on Jotunheim. He was, well, not here, not properly anyway, becoming the monster he had always feared to be, and he wasn’t only the monster the All-Parents hid from the populace. He had also become _Stark’s _monster because it was so obvious now, wasn’t it.

A weapon manufacturer, living in America, got kidnapped for the timespan Loki had experienced his pain, had been in Monaco, according to the Internet and he _knew _who Loki was and that he had killed Coulson.

It explained why he had felt like he was dying; there had been a poison in his blood, Barton had explained shortly and then went on talking about Stark’s persona and why they hadn’t recruited him as Avenger. 

His soulmate was a hero like Thor, only differently and he didn’t know _who_Loki was and – he swallowed, feeling himself become numb upon that realisation – it was better that way (to no one’s surprise).

Stark wouldn’t have to face him as _him_, as his soulmate - only as the villain on this ship and could try and do his best to defeat him.

Loki growled and yelled at his minions, telling them to hurry up and Selvig put the cube in a box, handing it over to Loki hurriedly, beaming from one ear to the other, proud to be _Loki’s _and revelled in the Tesseract’s secrets and learnt about all the others who got into contact with the Tesseract –

Stark’s Tower was his destination.

It was fun being in the Tower, Tesseract already set up and snarking at Stark’s AI that sassed back so delightfully; Loki adored it already. He wished to have met this piece of technological wonder during other circumstances but this wasn’t the case so he enjoyed the experience, the novelty of being sassed and having no restraints, flyting in perfect order, rhyming better than Frigga did on her best days.

Even if JARVIS was of the opinion that he had an eight-legged son.

He had not (to everybody’s surprise).

But when Stark _finally _had figured him out, knew what Loki’s next move would be and came to see him, Loki was just so happy he could see his soulmate as _his soulmate_, not just as another Midgardian (rabbits). 

He was happy with that.

And Loki stepped forward, eyes set on Stark, declining an offer of a drink as distraction. Loki wanted to slap himself out of this stupor in that moment. A _drink_with his soulmate and he, he wouldn’t get one? Life was cruel indeed.

He didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Talks about _his army_, who’d come out on top and _insults_.

It was a matter of pride to react to that insult (was it? Or do you just want to _touch _him before it’s over?).

But Loki never wished to see his hands wrapped around Stark’s throat and he knew how angry he was, he could feel it and he steered his own hand down and slowed the movement down, hoping the fall wouldn’t hurt Stark as much as he was able to.

But hearing him land on the floor wasn’t a delightful sound either.

Loki snarled at himself, banging at the door to the rest of his mind because he knew, _oh Norns_, he knew what he’d do _next _and that wouldn’t be fun, either.

_Suit, _Stark thought with a sudden intensity as he was lifted by Loki up again, like a toy that didn’t work anymore and Loki saw how close the window was.

Too close, to his likening.

_'JARVIS, __deploy the suit_,' was Stark’s thought and he burned with a desire for safety and Loki wanted to give him that.

But he couldn’t. He yelled and made himself go a step closer to the window, buying Stark time because he needed him to say something - he couldn’t, he wasn’t free, the blue was still there (_always) _and Loki took the step forward and when he wanted to fling Stark out of the window, Loki did his best to hold back his strength.

It wouldn’t do for Stark to fall quicker than he already had to and so he had a chance, Loki hoped and let go (_liar). _

Letting go never felt so difficult before and the suit rushing over him, Stark blasting him before disappearing into the battle again, it was just …

_Relieving_, he thought with shaking fingers because he slowly came free from his self-constructed prison, knowing that Stark was off now, doing something good for them all, hunting down Chitauri like Titus had wanted his revenge so desperately he gave his own hand for it.

That wasn’t correct, Loki thought wryly and saw the Beast coming for him.

But the Beast most definitely was Aaron or was it Thanos?

During the shacking the blue disappeared and Loki just whimpered in pain.

Heard Stark ask, ‘_Are you okay?’_

_‘Are you in New York?’_

_‘Did Loki do something to you.’_

He wanted to cry. His soulmate was worried about _him_, for him. He just closed his eyes and rested for a moment.

Loki had left maybe a bigger impact on himself than he had imagined. His mind was a bit of a mess. Things slowly turned back to how they used to be and yet, they weren’t because Loki then wasn’t Loki _now _and Loki in-between was a completely different matter. 

After a short rest he crawled up the stairs. He still hurt and he wanted to _leave_.

His neck prickled. He wasn’t alone anymore.

He didn’t have to turn his head to see who it was. He could feel Stark close to him.

He still turned around and relief flooded through him seeing his soulmate standing there _as whole as he could be_, looking not amused at all.

“If it’s all the same to you,” Loki drawled and his voice was _his _again, maybe he should thank the best, “I’ll have that drink now.”

Stark smirked at that.

Loki was simply relieved Stark was alive. Alive, standing, _whole_.

_‘I think you just beat the score of how relieved one can be.’_

He closed his eyes. Stark was there, in his head. Talking to him. It was beautiful and it soothed the haggard state of his mind.

_‘Will you ever answer me?’ _was Stark’s next thought and Loki gulped. _‘Please.’_

_‘And now, guilt? Are you on a trip?’_

Well, he had been on a blue-foggish, mind killing trip. Just not the way Stark expected it to be.

_‘I’m getting really worried here.’_

Loki _snorted_.

The Avengers threw him a comical look and Loki lost it. He had to clutch his belly because this was too ridiculous, too funny, his soulmate was here and was worried about him when in the same moment he only wanted to put shackles on Loki, wishing to get rid of him.

“A trip,” he wheezed somehow and Stark’s eyebrows shot up alarmingly fast, “I think you could call it that.”

He laughed some more, wiped stray tears away from his eyes and looked at Stark, fondness welling up in his chest.

“I think you should all leave for a moment,” Stark quietly _suggested _and surprisingly, the Avengers _obeyed_, what a great day this was.

When they were gone, Stark crouched down, oddly serious.

“You are a really, really difficult man to find,” Loki said and rolled his shoulders, his urge to laugh ebbing away. “Couldn’t have given me anymore hints, could you? I went bonkers in Asgard.” It set him off, _again_.

“That’s rich, coming from you.” Stark smiled a bit. “How was I supposed to find you when you’re not even from _here_?”

“You’re a genius, or so I’ve _heard_,” Loki grinned, relaxing in the presence of his soulmate being so close, “surely you would have found a way someday.”

“Flatterer,” Stark mumbled and watched him for a few moments.

“Look,” he then said, “you are _technically _a villain but you’re also _my soulmate_, so I will give you the benefit of doubt.”

“Stark?”

“It’s Tony, for heaven’s sake, Stark was my father. You and I, drink, now and you better explain to me why you did what you did and what the ever loving fuck I experienced the last year, alright?”

Loki nodded. He could do that.

He felt hope in his chest and he knew there was a chance that this might turn out good.


End file.
